"How far away is home?"

He asked, but wasn't heard.

The road wound on in the dark

But we were a little drunk from love and

The evening we were driving away from.

From the guitar and trumpet sounds of

A parade of glorious moments.

"How far away is home?"

He said, louder than before.

The road wound on in the dark

And suddenly, we could tell the love

Had soaked into the night we drove through,

And, just like that, home no longer mattered.